


Dearest Father Darling Mother

by foxymandy3100



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Au in which martin meets his dad, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, mentioned of past abuse, terrible parent, the deadbeat is an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27943214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymandy3100/pseuds/foxymandy3100
Summary: On their way back home after a date Martin runs into a familiar face he never thought he would see again. He wishes he never had.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 14
Kudos: 138





	Dearest Father Darling Mother

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was basically co-written by several people since we all came up with the idea together. thanks to everyone who helped me make this fic, hope you like it.

“ I still don’t like the theater but that was surprisingly enjoyable” 

Jon laughed behind a hand while the other slid casually into  Martin ’s, their fingers slowly lacing together like puzzle pieces slotting into place perfectly. Martin ’s palm was warm again Jon’s old  burn, but he  didn’t mind, it  wasn’t a bad sort of heat but more of a comforting kind. He liked how this felt , this casual affection. Loving  Martin was an effortless task . 

They walked together in comfortable silence, matching steps with each other ,  then breaths , until they fell into pace beside each other, a single organism living and moving on the London streets. 

A ball came to rest at  Martin ’s feet, bumping into his shoe. A smile spread on his face as he pulled his hand away to crouch and pick up the  toy . Jon mourned the loss quietly but let himself be distracted by the child running in their direction.  The first thing he noticed was the mop of reddish-blond hair and the soft way it curled at the tips. Then he noticed the honey eyes and warm skin tone, the  ruddy red cheeks and che erful smile full of so much love and wonder for the world. It was a lopsided smile with dimples on full display and Jon found himself stunned to  silence; the young boy was the  spitting image of Martin . One could mistake them for brothers easily or if  Martin were a little older  possibly father and son . 

Jon turned his gaze to  Martin to comment but he was staring with wide eyes at the boy who waited expectantly, small chubby hands out stretched for  his ball. 

“Evan, are you bothering the gentlemen?” 

A voice called out, low and mellow and Jon turned to look at what was  most likely the father of the boy approaching them. If Jon was startled by the appearance of the  child, then this man was even more jarring by appearance. He  looked even more like  Martin than the boy. His hair was shorter than  Martin ’s and peppered with streaks of grey along the  temple, but it bore the same stubborn curls and warm color. His eyes were a perfect match, they had the same body sh ape and while the man’s  gait held more confidence there was no mistaking the  resemblance . Jon had seen  Martin at full height in anger before and he was just as much  a sight to behold as the man before him.

The only thing that set them apart was that the man had a full greying beard that covered his face, moving up into his sideburns and over his lip in a mustache.  Jon was instantly reminded of Peter Lukas’. His skin crawled. 

The resemblance was uncanny at best and worrying at worst.  Martin looked between horror and tears and Jon worried at his lip, hesitant to say anything. 

“ Well, I'll be, aren’t we nearly twins” The man laughed, placing a hand on his son’s head to ruffle his hair. 

“I hope Evan hasn’t caused you too much trouble” 

Jon startled back to reality and quickly took the ball from  Martin to return to the man. 

“no, not at all. I believe this is yours” 

“why yes, it is. Thank you” 

The man smiled and the ground collapsed beneath  Martin ’s feet. He remembered that smile, that laughter, that face. He  remembered that man. The man who had raised him. The man who had left him. 

“D-dad?” 

Martin ’s voice cracked, just as broken as his heart had been. He knew there was no way this man could be his father. It had been  years, yet he looked  exactly the same as he had in  Martin ’s memories. 

“I’m sorry, who are you? Your name isn’t Evan, is it?” 

“I’m  Martin Blackwood”

“Blackwood you say? Hmm" 

The man looked thoughtful before smiling suddenly. 

“Juliet Blackwood?” 

“That’s my mother’s name” 

“I see” He turned to little Evan and smiled that same calming smile. He crouched down to eye level and handed over the ball. 

“Evan, why don’t you go play with Mary.  Daddy needs to have a grown-up talk with the nice gentlemen” 

Martin ’s throat closed, choked with emotion. He tensed and shook in his spot. Jon quickly wrapped an arm around him, hoping to offer comfort, ready to step in the mome nt  Martin needed him to. 

The man turned back to them. 

“I believe you’re mistaken. The child I had with Juliet Blackwood was a little girl. My little Mary. You are--” 

“I’m not a girl!” 

Jon flinched at the power and conviction in  Martin ’s voice.  Martin shivered, body shaking as his legs threatened to give.  The man simply nodded once and hummed. 

“I see.  Well, you’re the first  Martin I've had;  I'll give you that and you positively  reek of the lonely. Perfect" 

Jon straightened, eyes narrowed ready to pounce at the mention of the lonely when the man spoke again, eyes sparkling with glee 

“Tell me, how is your mother? Did my leaving break her? Did she succumb to the lonely as well?” 

Martin was lost, up was down, left was right, everything was twisting and swirling around him, he felt like he was back in  Michael's hallways where nothing made sense. He had always wondered what kind of  man his father had been to have left his family  behind, but he had never expected this. He gripped at  Jon’s hand and swallowed a few times to get his voice back. 

“I want to know... why he left” 

Jon looked up at  Martin , at the tears on his lashes, and  didn’t have it in him to refuse. He summoned up the familiar power he  hadn’t touched in so long and let it course through him. His eyes focused on the man and with  a low voice, he uttered his command. 

“ **_ Tell me your story” _ **

The man looked stunned for a moment, shaking before the words tumbled free. 

“My name is John Lukas. I’m a member of the Lukas family, servants of the lonely. I’ll spare you the details of my youth and raising but I will tell you that of my siblings I was the one most accustomed to bein g around people and I decided to use that to satisfy the Lonely’s need for victims. 

I can’t recall how long ago I started this little game of mine, the lonely has rewarded my service to it with an extended life span but I'm certain it’s been nearly half a  century, so you’ll have to forgive me if I forget some of the name s of m y many wives. I only remembered your mother because she was the clingiest of all the women I ever wooed into my arms. I couldn’t stand her. Oh, how I dreamed of the day I would leave her behind. I knew she would make a p erfect sacrifice to the Lonely. 

Ah, yes, you see  _ that _ is my game. I collect  families . I find a woman who is simply aching for “true love”, woo them, convince them to elope with me, to leave everything and everyone behind for  our love. I cut them off from the world they knew, the ones they loved, their friends and family. I start a new family with them and ensure that they have a child who looks like me to remind them of what they had, because really, what would leaving matter if they didn’t have something to remember me by. It makes their misery so much sweeter.” 

“Jon, ask him about the children... what about them?”  Martin ’s hands were balled into fists as he managed to choke out the words. He was moving so quickly past tears and to the horrible state of being numb. The longer the man talked the less  Martin could feel.  He was so cold. 

“I wasn’t done, boy. Don't  interrupt .” John grins sadistically, watching the fog that rolls on the ground begin to thicken around  Martin ’s feet. 

“The children aren’t even important.  They’re just there to ensure their mothers fall to the lonely. I  don’t really even care enough to  provide them their own names.  All of my daughters are named Mary and my sons Evan.  I've been lucky enough to avoid having twins or more so  it’s easy. I just tell my wife that it was my late father or mother’s name, and they  swoon over my romanticism.  The children mean nothing.  They’re tools for their mother’s misery. Their mother is left to pick up the pieces of their broken life with a  child bearing the face of the  man who tore  out her  heart . Stricken with grief they fall apart and  wither a way slowly. Ah yes,  Martin ... you never did answer me. How is your darling mother?” 

Jon felt righteous indignation on  Martin ’s behalf. How dare this man toy with and destroy so many lives. All the pain  Martin had suffered at his mother’s hands, all the  grief and anguish and loneli ness not only  didn’t upset the man, they pleased him. He was glad to have hurt  Martin . Jon  wouldn’t have it. 

With a growl, Jon gripped  Martin ’s hand. 

**_ “Silence”  _ **

Lukas’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Jon thought long and hard in the silence before his eyes trained on the man. 

“ **_ Hear me, breaker of hearts and lives. You will never destroy another family. The lonely will never hold peace for you again, you will find no solace in solitude and no matter how hard _ ** **_ you try, how much love you find in this world _ ** **_ , _ ** **_ i _ ** **_ t _ ** **_ will never be enough for you. You will feel the  _ ** **_ loneliness _ ** **_ you have bestowed upon other branded on you for the rest of your miserable life. Feed your god your own misery _ ** **_ , wretched creature of the mist.” _ **

Martin watched on in awe and horror as Jon’s eyes lit aflame with the energy of the  ceaseless watcher as he placed a curse like  compulsion upon the man who had caused him a  lifetime of pain and self-w orth issues. The n Jon took his hand and pulled him away and  Martin didn’t have the strength to resist. 

Jon led them both directly home, far from the scene in the park that had ruined their date and even further from the  horrid man who had hurt his dearest  Martin . 

Once the door to the apartment was shut Jon collected  Martin into his arms and  attempted to  meld his broken pieces back together.  Martin felt the fog slipping from between his lips, wisps and tendrils rising to the heavens  and vanishing, never reaching their destination, too forsaken to touch such a holy place.  Martin felt equally forsaken. 

Jon sat  Martin on the couch and pulled the other down into the warmest embrace he could give. He  didn’t care how long it took , he would sit there for hours, hold ing the cold and shaking  Martin until he began to warm  again, and the fog left him. 

Jon eventually pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over  Martin , laying him down so his head was in his lap. He ran his fingers through his chill damp curls  over and over again , feeling him warm over time. 

He knew  Martin would be  alright when the first tear hit his leg.  Martin shifted and rolled until his face was pressed into Jon’s stomach as he  shifted from silent tears into  raucous sobs that shook his w hole body. He  muffled his anguished cries in Jon’s sweater and flesh and clung tightly to the man’s rail thin frame until  J on felt he might break if  Martin held on tighter. 

They stayed there for  nearly an hour after  Martin had cried it out before he asked in a  small, wrecked voice if they could go to bed. It was only six in the  evening, but  J on  didn’t mind. They had had a late lunch and he was no stranger to going without a meal, he hel ped  Martin up and let the man lean on him as they waddled to the bedroom to collapse on the bed together.  Martin kicked off his shoes and pulled the blanket over them both before curling back into Jon’s side. 

Jon decided he would be the big spoon tonight. 

Morning came quickly and  Jon blinked his eyes open . H is groggy eyes  focused on the empty space beside him  before the day prior came rushing back and he flung himself from bed to go search for  Martin , praying he  hadn’t given back into the Lonely. 

Jon found him at the kitchen table searching through  Facebook . 

“ Martin , what are you doing?  It's f our in the morning the sun  isn’t even up . Come back to bed” 

Martin looked back at him and smiled. 

“I found some of my siblings” 

Jon blinked and approached the table, leaning over his shoulder to see the screen.  Martin had started a group on  Facebook and at least  five new names were on there, all variations of Mary ____ or Evan ____, each looking  similar to Martin in some way. Jon idly wondered how long  Martin had been at  this, but he found himself  just happy that  Martin was channeling the trauma to something proactive. 

“ So, when do we meet them?” 

Jon settled against  Martin ’s back, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  Martin looked stunned for a moment before smiling brightly. 

“As soon as possible.  It's odd. I always felt like I was so  alone, but I never could have imagined there were others out there going through the exact same thing. Maybe if I reach out to them then none of us will be alone anymore” 

Jon smiled and held him closer. 

“You’re not alone,  Martin .  As long as I'm alive, you’ll never be alone again” 

Martin smiled softly , nuzzling his face into the side of Jon’s shoulder. 

“I love you” 

“I love you too. Now, let’s contacts your siblings” 


End file.
